#he adapted and learned and was open instead of doubling and and refusing to admit he was at fault

[volvolts]

i do kinda love the implication that the only reason why the grimwalkers keep betraying belos is because they have caleb's Good Noodle genes as opposed to just being decent normal people going "dude what the fuck is wrong with you" whenever they learn that belos wants to kill people

[themidnight-ghost]

If we had 5 more minutes

Kate Fleming moves in with Jo Davidson under witness protection. Feelings are discovered, they get a dog, host Jo's first (proper) Christmas, and Kate finally realises what it's like to truly love someone. 

“You can live the life you should have lived. Be free to be the person that you really are.”

“Where do you plan on going next?” Steve took another sip of his beer; god knows what was going on in his friend’s mind. Kate Fleming had been confused ever since she met the infamous Jo Davidson, and after the conversation they just had, he knew Kate would be crazy to let her go.

“Home, probably.”

Steve could hear the uncertainty in Kate’s voice, and he placed a reassuring hand atop of hers, “If you want her, go get her, mate.”

“I’m afraid.” Kate ducked her head, “I know she has witness protection, but something tells me it won’t be enough. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Follow your heart. If I deserve a shot, so do you.” He gestured to the harsh autumn air drifting through the slit in the doorway. Kate felt like it was calling her. She knew exactly where she wanted to go and who she needed to see, “I’ll text you.”

Steve Arnott smiled as he watched his best friend grab her jacket and flag down a taxi, “I know you will.”

By the time Kate arrived at Jo’s safe house, it was already 3 am. She felt terrible leaving the woman alone after everything that had happened, but who could really blame her. After knocking on the door 6 times, doubt started to rise in the DI’s chest. What if Jo had forgotten about her? What if she was asleep? What if something terrible had happened?

Fleming knocked again, this time with more urgency.

“Jo? It’s me, Kate. Can you open the door?” After no answer, Kate started becoming illogical. She was never a rational person, often acting on impulse and facing the consequences. It never even occurred to her that Jo could’ve been in the shower. Kate automatically presumed the worst and started looking for a way to scale the building.

Using her detective skills, Kate located a web of ivy stretching up the side of the house. She tugged on it gently at first, then with a little more force before pulling herself up, gasping slightly as a branch gave way but continued to climb, unaware of the approaching figure.

“I didn’t know you have a double life.” A tired Scottish accent echoed through their street, and Kate almost lost her footing, “You look like you’re about to rob me.”  

Thankful that the darkness hid her reddening cheeks, Kate began to make her way down to the former DCI who wore matching sweatpants and sweatshirt.

“Then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from the woman who saved my life.” Jo twiddled her fingers as Kate approached, not wanting to cross a line.

“It was nothing, don’t worry about it.”

It wasn’t nothing.

Kate still remembered when Steve pulled over the van, how she froze after seeing Jo in such a dangerous position. The DI wanted to say something when they switched places, caress her hand as a sign of good luck, kiss her goodbye or reassure her that everything would be okay. Instead, she waited in silence as Jo was taken away from her yet again.

Unable to take the stillness, Kate spoke again, “How are you feeling?”

“I can’t sleep,” Jo admitted with a sad smile, “I’m constantly locking my doors, checking behind me and closing curtains. I want it to end, Kate.”

The DI wasn’t ready for such an honest confession, but she presumed it was because Jo had nothing left to lose - everything she had was now lost or a lie.

Kate automatically stepped forward, “It will end. The Gaffer’s picked out a place for you, somewhere in the country but still close to this place. You’ll be under witness protection. It’s like I said: you can live the life you should’ve lived.”

“Alone?” Jo’s accent was unusually weak. Alone was the harsh reality Jo didn’t want to admit true. She wanted nothing more but for Kate to come with her and live out a life together free of AC-12 and the OCG, but both women knew that wouldn’t be possible. Kate had a son and her job. Besides, Jo wasn’t worth loving.

Kate Fleming felt the same way. Every instinct in the DI’s body was begging to run to the smaller woman and hold her tightly in her arms, never letting go. It wouldn’t be practical. No one was supposed to know about Jo’s location, not even Hastings.  

“I’m sorry, Kate. Forget it; I’m the last person you’d want to be stuck with.”

Jo clearly still felt guilty about leading Kate to her death, but all of that was in the past. Kate didn’t care, and driving off into the night regardless of previous events was the best decision Kate had ever made.

“Jo, wait.” The DI instinctively grabbed the smaller woman’s wrist, stopping her from leaving, “Hear me out. I’ve never considered myself as anything other than straight, but that’s changed.”

Jo liked how Kate’s hand felt, securely wrapped around her wrist and never letting go. It felt safe like nothing can hurt her anymore.

“Christ, I’ve never been good at wording things or forming sentences, but I’ve never felt this way before, and I feel like a child.”

It only just occurred to Jo that this could be a confession.

“You’re so perfect. And even with everything you have going on, you’re still perfect even if you don’t think it now. And in the un-weirdest way possible, I want to follow you.” gentle drops of rain fell from the sky, “I want to follow you to the country, to England, to France, to wherever. Just so I can be with you. And I feel guilty that it took me this long to tell you because if something, anything happened in that prison, I don’t know what I’d do.”

At first, Jo thought this was a sick joke set up by AC-12 to get revenge, but the only thing in Kate’s eyes was honesty.

“You mean that?” The former DCI mentally cursed at her answer.

Taking both of Jo’s hands, Kate pulled her close.

“Of course I mean that. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” Something clicked, “I’m going to do everything I can to go home with you.”

And for the first time in ages, Joanne Davidson smiled. Too absorbed in the DI’s presence to consider anything else, she hesitantly cupped Kate’s face, pressing their foreheads together in the rain.

“Come home with me, Kate.”

☁️ ------------------- ☁️

Even though Kate doubted witness protection, she’d pulled a couple of strings that allowed her to move in with Jo. Initially, Kate had used Jo’s history with the OCG to convince AC-12 to let her move in, but as more truths became unearthed, Kate outed herself to Carmichael and was given the nod of approval.

It wasn’t the way Kate wanted it to go, but it still worked, and the DI wasn’t complaining. She still kept her job, her best friend, all whilst getting to live with the woman she... loved? Kate was still wavering about that word.

“I didn’t think it would be this big,” Jo spoke over the radio as the pair pulled into the driveway of a rural cottage.

Kate smirked, “Only the best for the best.”

Matching Kate’s humorous tone, Jo pointed to the ivy snaking up the trellis.

“Just in case you feel like climbing into the house again.”

“I was worried, yeah?” Kate gently nudged the smaller woman in the passenger seat, “Besides, I didn’t feel like waiting around all night.”

“Thank you, Kate.” Jo took the DI’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “For everything.”

“You really need to stop thanking me for everything. Give yourself some credit, Jo.”

“Let’s not go there just yet.” Jo unlocked the car door, becoming Kate to follow.

The DI knew Joanne still had problems with her role in their relationship. She believed that everything she did was selfish and wrong, refusing to see the good aspects like when they got drinks together or walked back to Kate’s drunk and free. Free from AC-12 and the worries of life outside and inside of work. When they walked hand-in-hand, looking at the moon whilst convincing themselves this was a totally platonic thing. Jo was yet to know that she helped Kate discover who she truly was and where she belonged.

Unlocking the little red door, Jo’s mind started to buzz. What colour would the walls be? Where would the kitchen go? Is the wall big enough for a tapestry?

“It’s a tad… plain,” Kate commented.

“That’s the point!” Jo enthusiastically hugged the DI, “We get to choose how to live. For once, we are in control.”

Witnessing Jo so excited made Kate’s heart flutter. Consumed by euphoria, Kate picked up her lover and spun her around in their new living room, their laughter bouncing off the walls and filling the space.

The pair ended by facing each other, breathing heavily through bubbles of laughter.

“What colour should the kitchen be?”

“Green,” Jo tucked a strand of hair behind Kate’s ear, “With a gold tint.”

Kate smiled at Jo’s newfound confidence, “Sound good, boss. Ever thought of getting a dog?”

“Please, Kate,” Jo became solemn, “You don’t need to call me boss anymore.”

Kate took her hand, “But, I thought that was our thing? If you want me to stop, I will.”

Jo inhaled deeply. There are certain things she didn’t want to address, especially after the moment they just experienced. That being said, Joanne Davidson knew the key to any healthy relationship was communication.

“Can we just start again?” Jo fiddled with her fingers, something she always did when anxious, “I don’t want to remember what I put you through or the pain you faced because of my mistakes.”

“I’m sorry, Jo, but I don’t want to start again.” Kate touched the older woman’s shoulder, “Those experiences, they make us who we are; it’s why we’re so close. The universal experience we share with AC-12 and the OCG: it’s us, and I don’t want to forget that.”

Witnessing the walls of Jo’s mental castle crumbling, Kate continued.

“You made mistakes, we all do. It’s what makes us human. We learn from them, adapt, overcome, and that isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Even if forgetting was possible, we can’t pick and choose to get rid of the bad and keep the good. You must find good in the experience. To me, that good is you, Jo.”

Jo buried her head into the crook of Kate’s neck, “I don’t deserve you.”

“I could say the same.”

The pair stayed like that for what seemed like hours. Jo cried it out into Kate’s chest, gripping her shirt as the DI whispered honest words of comfort.

☁️ ------------------- ☁️

After adjusting to their new life, the couple decided to take that exciting yet predictable step and get a dog. It was something Kate Fleming had wanted to do for a long time, and Jo was in no place to stop her. The agreement was that if Jo designed the house, Kate could design the dog… or something as such.

After rolling down the windows, taking many wrong turns and singing Taylor Swift at the top of their lungs, the couple eventually reached the pet shelter.

They held hands as they walked through the kennels.

“What are you looking for, Kate?”

The DI hesitated, spoilt for choice, “Something with personality and spirit.”

“Sounds like a tough one-”

“Christ, what the hell is that!” Kate abruptly pulled away, running over to one of the kennels, “It’s some sort of hairless rat.”

Jo tried her best not to laugh at her girlfriend’s antics, “Kate, you can’t just say that. You’ll hurt its feelings!”

The DI kneeled over in a fit of laughter as the hairless rat-dog chirped towards them, and this time it was Jo’s turn to laugh at the little dog as it spun sporadically in circles.

“Look at the tufts of hair poking from its chin!” Kate mocked before focusing her attention elsewhere, “What have you seen?”

Jo wordlessly pointed to the kennel housing a golden labrador. His eyes were kind and gentle, and he greeted them with a waggy tail. Both women crouched by the glass, Kate resting a hand on Jo’s shoulder for support as the former DCI pressed the palm of her hand against the kennel bars. The dog was cautious at first but started licking Jo’s palm delicately.

“He reminds me of myself,” Jo murmured, and Kate wanted her to continue. The DI never expected Jo to relate to a dog. A hawk maybe but never a dog, “In prison, I mean.”

“He reminds me more of Steve; look at his mug.” The quip Kate made to lighten the mood worked, and soon the couple had signed the papers and were driving back home to Taylor Swift, Steve the dog accompanying them in the back seat.

Jo’s first rule was that Steve wasn’t allowed on the bed. The second was that he couldn’t chew anything of value in the house. Unfortunately for Jo, Steve and Kate ignored both of them.

It started when Kate heard Steve crying in his bed, so she naturally felt sorry for the animal and brought him upstairs to sleep with the couple. All was going well until Steve the dog slotted himself between the pair, separating them for the entire night.

“Come on, mate,” Kate whispered as she pulled the dog back, “I’ve spent enough time without her already.”

After about 10 minutes of trying to move the labrador, Joanne Davidson’s tired voice muffled into the pillow: “I told you the dog shouldn’t be allowed on the bed, Kate.” The DI knew Jo was smirking from how she said her name and decided to get her own back. She refused to spend any more nights without Jo wrapped in her arms.

Climbing past Steve the dog and over the blankets, Kate adjusted herself in the darkness, so she was lying comfortably on Jo’s back. Rolling her eyes, Jo shuffled upwards, letting the DI snake her hands around her waist and cushion her head in Jo’s neck. Jo seriously considered letting Steve sleep on the bed every night.

☁️ ------------------- ☁️

With no recent actions from the OCG, AC-12 gave Kate the go-ahead to release details of her and Jo’s location to 2 people maximum. It wasn’t a debate. Fleming approved Steve and Ted in a heartbeat, making sure they knew the pans for Christmas eve.

Jo Davidson had never spent Christmas with someone before, never mind someone she loved. Even with Freida, Jo had been alone, never fully able to relax or enjoy the rainbow lights and festive music, but as she sat snuggled in front of the wood burner with Kate, she was entirely able to absorb the atmosphere:

Their Christmas tree in the corner, Steve the dog chewing a candy cane, stockings over the fireplace, the unfinished gingerbread house on the kitchen counter, Christmas music outlining the walls and being curled up in the arms of the love of her life as she breathed gently on her neck whilst reading a book.  

“I know you’re unsure about the L-word….” Jo trailed off, once again twiddling her fingers.

Kate kissed her cheek, “Lesbian?”

The former DCI wanted to be as honest as possible, “You know what word I mean, Kate. And I know it scares you.” A beat, “You are in no position to say it back, but I need to tell you that I love you, Kate.”

Kate reassuringly rubbed Jo’s side.

“You love me?”

At that moment, Jo felt a wave of embarrassment overtake her. She felt like a child in a playground handing their crush a dandelion. The former DCI tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded shyly.

“You mean a lot to me, Jo,” Kate admitted with a smile. She had been brainstorming how to say the L-word without actually having to say it, “More than most people and you need to know, you’re the most important person in my life.”

Content with the answer, Jo snuggled into her lover’s side, drifting away to the sound of carol singers and church bells.

Forgetting to send Steve and Ted a text not to ring the bell, she was thankful to see them (mainly Steve) making ‘lovey dovey’ faces through the window. Kate rolled her eyes at her friends’ antics, cautiously prying herself away from the smaller woman and opening the door, pressing a finger to her lips.

“We didn’t mean to wake you,” Ted said sincerely, placing the bag of Christmas presents on the table.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Kate admitted, “It was mainly Jo anyway, her nightmares are on and off, and last night wasn’t the greatest. But you-” She turned to Steve,

“Finally got the girl I see?” Her best friend greeted her with a witty remark and a hug.

Ted peered into the couple’s living room where Jo slept to admire their tree.

“No star?” He questioned.

Kate assessed Steve’s Christmas eve takeaway, “Jo said her mum had a tradition where they put the star up on Christmas day. I figured we’d keep it alive.”

“You should go wake her, mate. God knows how she’ll react to someone in her house. Nevermind us of all people.” Steve mentioned, not wanting to make a bad impression.

“Just don’t break anything.” Kate quipped.

Steve the dog and Steve the person got along surprisingly well, and when not being interviewed about the OCG, Jo and Ted actually had a lot in common. All four shared Steve’s Christmas eve takeaway whilst watching ‘Love Actually’ and, much to Kate’s dismay, started on her trifle during ‘A Muppets Christmas Carol’. The night ended with an excitable game of charades in which Steve and Jo had to act out Scooby and Shaggy - Steve gave Jo a piggyback around the cottage, both adults screaming with glee as they paraded around.

To be honest, Jo didn’t have high hopes of keeping a relationship with Ted and Steve, especially after Operation lighthouse. It was unfortunate because Kate cared so much about them, and despite not knowing them, it automatically made Jo care about them too.

Christmas day passed too quickly. They started by opening presents. Kate got Ted a ‘Worlds Best Dad’ mug, and Steve bought him a customised top saying: ‘Not H’.

As well as last night’s takeaway, Steve bought Kate a sign he stole from AC-12 whilst drunk (don’t ask how he didn’t get caught) and an Alexa. Kate went for a more classy option: a framed photo of them wasted at a karaoke bar.

Finally, it was Jo’s turn. Due to Kate’s last-minute planning, the former DCI had no chance to buy Ted or Steve anything, but they didn’t mind; they hadn’t formed enough of a bond yet. However, Kate insisted she presented her present first. The DI could hear her heart thumping in her ears as she handed Jo the small jewellery box containing 2 necklaces, each with a personalised pendant: a small silver gun, the other a golden car. Jo admired them with adoration; every detail had been etched into the metal, even the make of Steve’s getaway vehicle.

“A matching set?”

“To remind us of how far we’ve come.”

Jo wasn’t sure how her present could top Kate’s but proceeded with the gift-giving. It was a weighted blanket, a set of bond touch bracelets for when Kate went back to work and a cute little photo book personalised with added newspaper clippings, annotations, dates and locations relating to their relationship.

Jo’s act of love deeply touched Kate’s heart. A series of small yet meaningful presents was definitely her speed, and Kate couldn’t stop herself from flicking through the photobook and admiring all the small details like her favourite colour, preferred flowers and location coordinates which Jo had marked in.

“It’s adorable. Thank you, Jo.”

Jo simply nodded as she sat in Kate’s lap, fiddling with the silver gun around her neck. Kate Fleming had the car, of course.

Unable to move after the Christmas dinner, the group spent the rest of Christmas relishing each others company. Jo and Kate started by carelessly putting up the star, the former DCI needing a lift from her girlfriend to reach the top of the tree. Human Steve was with dog Steve, Ted had a cuppa and a newspaper, commenting on various political events, occasionally uttering a ‘mother of god’ making Kate, who was now squashed under Jo Davidson, chuckle.

That was the first Christmas where Jo had properly smiled.

☁️ ------------------- ☁️

Kate Fleming had been married once, and it was a disaster. Let’s just say she wasn’t ready for it. She had too many regrets, doubts and problems in her own head. That marriage put her off love for a while. Not only that, but the universal experience of being heartbroken was enough to make her want to stay single forever. That was the plan until Joanne Davidson arrived. Jo Davidson helped Kate discover who she was and become comfortable with her sexuality. The woman who helped her embrace the demons, who humbled her whilst building her up and never tore her down.

The DI was on the fence about her feelings until she almost lost Jo at the shootout with Ryan Pilkinton. On that night was when Kate decided to take Jo and run, the city wasn’t safe, and the pair wanted out. Unfortunately, the plan didn’t work.

That’s why Kate was standing by the door, ring in pocket, dog lead in hand, ready to propose to the woman she loved.

“Ready to go?” Greeted the Scottish accent she loved so dearly.

“I’m the one waiting for you, boss.” Jo lovingly ruffled the DI’s hair as she stepped out of their cottage, taking a freeing breath of air; she grinned when Steve bounded behind her and Kate linked their arms.

It was autumn again. The couple proceeded to the nearby hill path, through the arching oak trees, across the wooden bridge kate thought how nice it was to see Jo free from all those layers she used to wear at work. The former DCI swished her legs through the sea of leaves, and Kate did the same, both women snickering like toddlers when they flew up in her face.

Kate knew Jo would want something intimate and private rather than exotic and loud, so she planned to propose at the top of the hill which overlooked the city. Kate had timed the walk perfectly so the sun would set, and she could properly see the golden tones reflecting on her lover’s face.

Finally reaching the top of the hill, Kate admired how perfect Davidson looked as she gazed contently at the sunset, contrasting against the flushed sky. Steve the dog sniffing around for squirrels Kate realised they had the perfect family.

“Jo?” Kate looked calm, but inside, she was terrified of rejection, “Forgive me for not saying this earlier; I just didn’t know how to word it.”

Aware that she had Jo’s full attention, she swallowed the nonexistent doubt and continued.

“I love you. I love how sweet you are with kids. I love how you get sleepy when it rains. I love how you fiddle with your fingers when nervous. I love how you’re obsessed with skittles but only the yellow ones. I love how you turn your head into my hand when I play with your hair. I love how insanely ticklish you are. I love how you adore being the little spoon, even if you won’t admit it for anything. I love how you drive so. So carefully when someone else is in the car. I love how you can’t pass a field of cows without saying ‘cows’. I love how you hug every dog you see. I love how you scrunch up your nose when you feel like you’re going to sneeze.”

Kate knelt down on one knee.

“I love your fear of fireworks. I love how cuddly you are when you’re tired. I love all of that and everything else too, and I could keep going all day with listing all the millions of things that make you Jo. I love you, Joanne Davidson, and I am always going to love you.”

She pulled the box from her pocket, presenting it to her lover.

“Joanne Davidson, will you marry me?”

Jo looked starstruck, but after what seemed like hours, she shook her head. Kate went numb, her face fell, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The DI didn’t even feel Jo take the box from her hands’ nevermind see Jo taking a knee.

“You seem to be giving all the speeches lately.”

The Scottish accent pulled kate out of her daze, and the taller woman tenderly gasped at the sight of Jo Davidson, down on one knee and offering her a ring.

“I don’t think you realise the impact you’ve had on my life, Kate. You saved me. Not just from the OCG but from myself, and I don’t know how to ever thank you for that. Through the time we’ve known each other, you’ve been my knight in shining armour. You stormed the tower-like Flynn Ryder when Rapunzel needed help, risked your job just to get us out of the city. You intercepted the transport vehicle, and without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Jo couldn’t contain her grin as she witnessed Kate's reaction.

“The only time is smile is when I’m with you, Kate. I can be myself around you, and I’ve never been more thankful to have someone in my life. When we first arrived, you told me that we shouldn’t start again because our story makes us who we are. I’m ashamed it took me so long to realise this. We’re here today because we made choices we can’t change, and even though it’s broken me and built me back up, there’s no one else I’d rather go on this journey with. You, me and Steve, of course.”

Kate felt like she was on top of the world and the following sentence was everything she wanted to hear and more.

“Please, Kate Fleming. Will you marry me?”

Obviously, Kate said yes.

☁️ that ending honestly makes me feel sick so I wrote my own. I'm glad Jo found happiness - she deserved it. but we all know it should've been with Kate. thank you for reading bestie x 😔 ☁️

[duhragonball]

Hellsing Ch. 70-76

I guess anything I say here is a spoiler, so yeah, this is “Heart of Dreams”, “Relics”, “Heart of Iron”, and the arc “Finest Hour”.  Oh, and “Lunatic Dawn”.   Gotta lotta ground to cover.    Treacherous ground.

Not a whole lot to say about Anderson’s death.  He tried to become a monster using one of the Holy Nails from the True Cross, and then Alucard defeated him anyway, once Seras gave him a little help and a reason to go on living.   Alucard was pretty upset about Anderson’s demise, but Anderson says a few soothing words, and reminds him that Al only became a vampire because he couldn’t stand being a human, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense for him to cry now.  

So yeah, as determined as Anderson was to kill Alucard, he’s a pretty good sport about losing this fight, and he seems to genuinely pity the man.   He wonders how long Alucard will go on living with his regrets, and Al replies “Until my expansive future shatters my expansive past.”  So, if we want to take that literally, I guess he’s trying to find redemption by being a good guy to make up for his years as a bad guy.   Well, he’s been a vampire for 523 years, and a servant of Hellsing for 101 of those years, so I guess maybe he figures if he trucks along for another 321 years that’d balance the scales?  

And maybe I’m finally starting to appreciate some of the complexities of Alucard’s character.   The Team Four Star Abridged series spent some time on his desire for redemption, but I couldn’t tell if it was based on the original material or something they came up with for their own version.   For instance, the Abridged!Alucard rejected the forgiveness offered by God himself, but later Anderson spoke of his desire for redemption and Alucard didn’t dispute that.    It seemed contradictory to me at the time, but the manga does seem to support that.    As Vlad Tepes, he refused to ask God for anything, preferring instead to fight and drive himself and his followers to the limits of endurance and decency as proof of their faith.   

I find that idea heretical, because it suggests that a person can “earn” God’s favor, or God’s forgiveness, or a place in heaven.    Arguably, Anderson tried to do the same thing, but I think he was coming more from a place of doing zealous deeds out of gratitude for the Lord’s grace, rather than trying to earn anything he didn’t already have.  

The difference with Alucard is that he seemed to be really wrongheaded about his faith, trying to use violence to become a good person.   Then it didn’t work, and he became a vampire, devoted entirely to his own selfish desires, and I guess he’s spent the 20th Century realizing that he’s back where he started, trying to fight his way to redemption, only now he has centuries of red in his ledger instead of mere decades.   

Oh, anyway, while this is going on, Integra takes a sword and stands it upright so it looks like a cross to mark Anderson’s death.   It’s like this quiet sign of respect.   I’m not sure whose sword that is, but it looks like the one Alucard was using in his Dracula persona.   

Anyway, fuck all that, because Walter finally shows up and stomps the ashes of Anderson just as everyone was having their final farewell with the guy.  Rude.

Young Walter just looks kind of stupid to me.  Why is he still wearing the monocle?  He’s trying to be 14 and 69 at the same time and failing at both.

Seras asks what Millennium did to him, but Walter makes it clear that this isn’t some brainwashing trope.   He’s doing this of his own free will.

He also doesn’t consider himself loyal to Millennium.    They turned him into a vampire, but he’s doing this for himself, and he’s only cooperating with them because their goals are in alignment.  

Yumiko Takagi tries to kill Walter for... Was she mad at him for stomping on Anderson’s remains?    I mean, Alucard’s the one who actually killed Anderson, so shouldn’t she be mad at that guy? 

It doesn’t matter, because Walt just slices her into pieces with his magic filaments.    Now Heinkel Wolfe wants revenge, because she was her long-time partner in assassin stuff.   The TFS Abridged series implied that they were lovers, too, which seemed authentic at the time, but I’m not sure there’s any confirmation to be found in the manga itself. 

But before she can take the shot, the Captain shows up and shoots Heinkel in the face.    Like, through one cheek  and out the other, and the only thing saving her from serious injury was that she happened to have her mouth open at the time.  

Side note: I caught myself referring to Heinkel as “him”, which frustrates me because I’ve known she was a woman for like five years now.    When I first watched the OVA, I was confused, becuase I could tell it was a female voice actor, but maybe that just meant he was really young, like with Schrodinger.   But the Hellsing Wiki set me straight, or so I thought.    I didn’t think I’d still be making this mistake. 

On the other hand, Yumiko sometimes looks a lot like Goemon from Lupin III, so her wearing a nun’s habit isn’t as heteronormative as it might seem.  I’m getting off-track.

You’d think this would be leading up to some big double-team on the Hellsing group, now that the Iscariots are out of the picture, but the Captain’s only stopping Heinkel so Walter can have a clear shot at Alucard.    That’s the sole reason Walter turned traitor, you see.   He wants to fight Alucard and win, and for the last 55 years they’ve been on the same side.  

But is that all it is?   I never got to read or watch “Hellsing: The Dawn”, the prequel manga Kouta Hirano created after Hellsing.  I’ve heard that it never got finished, but also an anime adaptation was released with the home video release of Hellsing Ultimate Episode VIII.  All I really know about it was that there was this time where Alucard and Walter were fighting the Nazis, and the Captain showed up, and Alucard ran away because he didn’t think he could beat that dude. Presumably, he left Walter to fend for himself?   But all three of them survived until 1999, so I’m not sure what the outcome of that was.   I always wondered if Walter held a grudge over that.   But maybe I’m reaching. 

There’s also a suggestion of professional jealousy.  Walter was a rockstar vampire hunter in his youth, but he’s been overshadowed by Alucard, who is--let’s face it-- a living legend.  This would be doubly true in the 90′s, when Integra reawakened Alucard, and Walter having to step back even further from the spotlight.  The only way for him to reclaim his former glory would be to challenge the greatest of all vampires and win.    He’d go down in history as a traitor, but at least he’d be cemented as the absolute best.  

Or... or, you can go with the TFS version, where Walter hints at his motives, only for Alucard to take the wind out of his sails and announce “because you wanna fuck me!”   And I love that theory more than any other explanation, because it just brings everything together a lot more neatly.   I guess you don’t need Walter to have had a crush on Alucard for 55 years, but it’s a lot more compelling than revenge or professional jealousy.    Those things have weight, sure, but they work better as distractions, the things Walter might admit to because they hide the deeper reason that he can’t bring himself to say out loud.   

And it’s not entirely rejected by the manga.  Alucard remarks on how much more beautiful Walter looked in his old age, compared to this treasonous knockoff vampire look he’s sporting now.   The last time he spoke this way, it was when he flirted with Queen Elizabeth II.   The next time he does it, it’ll be with Sir Integra when she’s in her early 50′s.

Speaking of QE2, she’s safe and sound, because the Secret Service evacuated her to a fortified location in Dover before Millennium attacked.   If things get really hairy, they’re prepared to send her to Canada, and if London can’t be secured, they’ll nuke the whole city, though the Queen is certain that Integra and Alucard will win the day.  The vampires acting as Millennium agents outside of London are being contained and destroyed, so things seem to be getting under some semblance of control.  

However, the Royal Order of Protestant Knights, also known as the “Round Table” is down to just three surviving members.   Integra’s in London, but here we have Rob Walsh and Hugh Irons, reflecting on the death of their fellow Round Tabler, Penwood.  

This whole scene struck me as a complete non sequitur when I first saw it in the anime.  Walter’s betrayal seemed to sudden and poorly explained that it felt like the author was just winging it by this point, and now we have these two dudes struggling to provide some justification for the twist.    But reading this manga in 2021, I find that it makes a lot more sense.    We’ve already seen tons of Britons in rather lofty positions, all willing to sell out their principles for a chance to become a vampire.   Walter is no different from any of them.   It’s just more personal when he does it because we actually know the guy.  

But as Walsh discusses the utter debacle of this Millennium invasion, he deduces what we’ve just learned back in London.   There must have been a traitor in their ranks, because that’s the only way Millennium could have made it this far.   I mean, they just flew a bunch of giant blimps full of rockets right into British airspace.   That only worked because they had traitors sabotaging the U.K.’s defenses and communications, and Hellsing was especially vulnerable at the same time.  

The only thing Walsh can’t figure out is who the traitor was, since it had to be someone at the Round Table, but they’re all dead now, except for Integra, Irons, and himself. 

But Irons fills in the missing pieces.   It doesn’t have to have been one of the Round Table’s members, but someone close to one of the members.   Years ago, Irons warned Walter about Richard Hellsing.   Irons knew that when Arthur died, Richard would try to make a play for the Hellsing estate.   But when Irons’ fears came to pass, Walter wasn’t there.   It’s like he wanted things to play out the way they did.  

But why would Walter want events to play out that way?   On her own, Integra had no choice but to unseal Alucard to defend herself, and she’s kept Alucard active ever since.   And now, lo and behold, Walter reveals that he turned traitor just so he could take on Alucard.   It’s like he arranged for all of this to happen years in advance.   But how many years?    Fifty-five, Irons wonders.   

It’s never explicitly confirmed, but Irons’ reasoning makes too much sense to ignore.    Earlier, the Major said that he decided back in ‘44 that Walter “Angel of Death” Dornez would have been a good “get” for his side.    Now, Irons is suggesting that Walter might have agreed in the same year.   So maybe Walter and the Major made a secret agreement even then.   It’s possible that they might have done it later, but why not in 1944?

I mean, the whole backstory here is that Millennium is a continuation of a secret Nazi Vampire project that Walter and Alucard destroyed in 1944.   Except they didn’t destroy it at all, which sure makes Walter and Al seem very bad at their jobs, unless Walter let them escape and covered it up.

Meanwhile, the Captain tosses a first aid kit to Heinkel, kind of like he’s saying that he doesn’t want to kill Heinkel, but he can’t let her interfere either.   We’ll talk about the Captain later.

As for Alucard vs. Walter, Al wants to check with Integra before he goes through with it.   He asks for orders, repeating his big speech from when he killed all those cops in Brazil.    Yeah, Walter’s a traitor, but he’s been a close mentor and advisor to Integra for all these years.   Does she really want Alucard to killerize his ass?

Yes, she does.   If Walter stands against them, then he’s the enemy, and Integra has already ordered Alucard to destroy the enemy, no matter who (snif!) they may be.  Integra doesn’t relish this command, but she refuses to compromise over sentimental feelings.

Man, fuck you, Walter.  

Then the Major lands his airship near the battlefield and invites Integra to come aboard and fight all of his remaining guys.    Alucard orders Seras to join her while he deals with Walter.   I can appreciate Seras’ concern here, because the last time she watched Alucard fight alone, he took a flaming bayonet to the face.   She probably doesn’t care for Integra and Alucard splitting up like this.

Before she goes, she thanks Walter for all of his support, which disarms Walter for just a moment.   Man, fuck you, Walter.   Seras is so nice and grateful and polite and cool and you just go right ahead with your 55-years-in-the-making Nazi Vampire Jilted Lover scheme.  Fuck you, Walter.   You don’t deserve to be in Seras’ life.

So the gals go on board the airship and Schrodinger’s there and Integra just shoots him right between the eyes without bothering to slow down.    This is maybe my favorite Integra moment in this thing.    I sort of wish Kouta Hirano had done a spin-off of Integra and Seras doing cool shit like this for 30 years.

Alucard taunts Walter with the fact that he no longer gets to be a part of Inegra or Seras’ lives anymore.   It sounds kind of petty, but when you think about it, it’s a pretty sick burn.    Walter may have been planning this for 55 years, but he still had to live that double life, and it’s not like he can just say he was faking it the entire time.  

So they fight.   Walter’s magic wire powers seem to be amplified, either because of his restored youth or maybe the boost offered by vampire powers, or maybe he’s always been this strong but now he no longer needs to hold back anymore.  For instance, he can make mesh screens with his wires to deflect Alucard’s bullets.   And when Alucard summons that dog creature he used to dispatch Luke Valentine....

... Walter just bisects it with a flick of the wrist.   You really begin to see why he was “The Angel of Death” back in his heyday.  

I never understood what this dog familiar was supposed to be.   Walter refers to the Hound of the Baskervilles, but as far as I know that’s just a legend confined to the Sherlock Holmes novel of the same name.   But apparently that concept was based upon “black dog” folklore of the same region.  There’s a whole laundry list of “black dog” apparitions in Britain alone.   Black Shuck, Padfoot, Hairy Jack, Bizarro Snoopy, and so on.   So I’m not sure if Hirano is saying that Alucard was the source of these legends, or if they were all based on a single creature which Alucard eventually defeated and absorbed into himself.   

Al tries to use the Jackal to kill Walter, but that’s kind of stupid, since Walter designed the gun in the first place.   In the anime, I thought Walter somehow triggered a bomb he had planted inside it, but maybe he used his wires to make this happen.   It doesn’t really matter, because we already saw that the Casull was useless against Walter’s defenses, and not because it had smaller ammunition.  

Then Luke Valentine emerges from the black dog’s body.   This part never made any sense to me, but I loved how the Major recognized him, but barely.  “Oh yeah, it’s that guy from Volume 2!    The guy with the brother.”

The doctor suggests that when the dog was killed, this allowed Luke to reassert himself from inside the dog.   Something about a “control ratio”, whatever that is.  Like, he was absorbed into the dog’s mass, but now that the dog is no longer conscious, he can think for himself again.    Notably, only half of Luke actually makes it out .   It’s like he’s half-Luke, half dead dog monster. 

But before he can do anything else, Walter puts his wires into Luke and starts controlling him like a puppet, mostly so he can use the dog half to attack Alucard.

Alucard seems more impressed than threatened.   Keep in mind, Walter was doing pretty damn well against him early on.   You’ll notice Alucard’s missing his right arm along with one of his guns.   This is better than Anderson managed to do.   So why does Walter even need this Luke-dog puppet thing in the first place?

Well, it’s because Walter’s body is giving out on him.   Earlier, when the Doctor was performing the procedure to turn Walter into a vampire, he spoke about how rushed the operation was.  I mean, he had to finish the whole thing in one night, after all.   And Walter’s a lot more powerful than Dandyman, whom the Doctor considered his finest artificial vampire work.    So maybe Walter’s just too powerful for this, and he can’t sustain this form.   The Luke-dog-thing is just to keep Alucard busy while he coughs up blood.

The Major sees this development, and likens Walter to a high stakes gambler who’s mortgaged everything for a single hand at a high stakes table.   Walter’s risked everything just to tangle with Alucard, and it still isn’t enough.

Alucard does manage to finish off the dog-Luke thing, and this sets him up for Walter’s next attack, and then he goes to finish him off, so things seem to be going Walter’s way...

But Alucard used a decoy, disguising Luke’s severed torso as his own, all so he could sucker-punch Walter in the face.   As it turns out, Walter’s physical breakdown is making him younger, which amuses Al to no end.

So Alucard follow suits and assumes the form he once used when they fought the Nazis in 1944.   Yeah, say hello to “Girlycard”.   I’m not sure why Alucard looked like a 14-year-old girl during World War II.   I’ve heard this form described as a Japanese 14-year-old girl, and I can’t dispute it, but it also makes Girlycard seem even more random somehow.   

I mean, I guess the idea here was for Walter and Alucard to be able to move inconspicuously through enemy territory.  No one would suspect a couple of kids until it was too late.   I’m imagining a similar scenario to the ones presented in “Cross Fire”.   Heinkel and Yumi would play innocent bystanders, then whip out their guns and swords and go ham on the bad guys.    Knowing Hirano’s style, maybe Girlycard and Young Walter operated the same way.  

And this further supports the Walter-had-an-unrequited-crush-on-Alucard theory.   He might have understood that Girlycard was a disguise.  On an intellectual level he might have known, but maybe he still carried a torch, and told himself that there was some way that they could be together.   Was he just in love with this disguise, or does he love the real thing?  Alucard says that he told Walter the truth decades ago, and claims that this is the reason Walter turned traitor, so yeah, it sure feels like Walter couldn’t handle Alucard’s true nature, one way or another.   

I mean, let’s assume that this isn’t just about Alucard not being a cute girl.  Maybe Walter fell in love with Alucard in all his forms, whatever that means for his sexuality.    The bigger issue is that Alucard’s a vampire, and he’s just fundamentally different from Walter, and maybe that was the problem all along.   It’s interesting to think about, but the point here would be that there was some kind of problem, and Walter couldn’t let it go.

Meanwhile, Seras and Integra are busy looking like total BMFs.   Just HBIC’s.   What’s better than this?   Two gals bein’ pals.   

Hell yeah!

Bad ass!

The vampires on board this airship are happy to meet their doom, and Integra recalls what her father once told her about how vampires want to die on their own terms.   Seras doesn’t get it, because if they want to die so badly, they could have just died in the war they were already in fifty-odd years ago.  

So the Major gets on the PA system and explains to her that they want more than just a glorious death.   They want bigger, better, more perfect battlefield, so as to make their deaths as meaningful as possible.  That’s why I don’t understand that airship captain from a while back.   Everyone else in Millennium seemed to understand that they weren’t necessarily fighting to win.   Britain is prepared to nuke London if they have to, so it’s hard to imagine anyone in Millennium surviving past today, even if they won.  

Anyway, as the Major explains all of this, the Captain appears before the gals.  It looks like he’s here to stop them, or is he?

[cursed-ice-queen]

My Jacob’s birthday was yesterday! So to celebrate here’s his profile! Outline provided by @hogwartsmystory.

     IDENTITY

Name: Jacob Lovino Parker

Gender: Male

Age: 15

Birth Date: December 29th

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: ???

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: Irish, Italian

Residence: Cork, Ireland

Myer Briggs Personality Type: INFJ-T

     THE MAGE

1st Wand: Pine, 10”, Dragon Heartstring Core

2nd Wand: He has several! All of varying lengths but all dragon heartstring

Hawthorn: Suited to healing magic and curses; suited to those with a conflicted nature, proven talent

Hornbeam: Talented with a single pure passion/obsession, adapt more quickly to owner’s style than most wands, become so personalized others find it difficult to cast simplest spells, absorbs code of honor and may refuse to perform, fine-tuned and sentient

Maple: Suited to travellers and explorers, prefer ambition otherwise magic grows heavy and lackluster, regular changes of scene cause it to shine

Pine: Independent and individual master, may be perceived as loner or mysterious, enjoys being used creatively, adapts well, owners never die young, among most sensitive to non-verbal magic

Silver lime: Works best with skilled Legilimens

Willow: Healing power, owner often has some insecurity, enables advanced, non-verbal magic, selects those of greatest potential

Yew: Matches are notorious, has dark reputation in dueling spheres, a fierce protector of others, never choses mediocre or timid owner

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens

Boggart Form:

House centipedes

Snape

R Messengers

Forest Vault with Acromantula over unconscious Parker

Later has Pius’ voice

Riddikulus Form:

Putting it in Disco clothes and making it dance

He has no defense for the Acromantula

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?) Books

Amortentia: (What do they smell?) Pumpkin, dusty old books, Nonna’s garden, fall leaves

Patronus: Cheetah

Patronus Memory: Duncan comforting him after accidentally coming across Snape Boggart

Mirror of Erised: Himself surrounded by friends and family acknowledging that he isn’t mad and that he was right all along about the Vaults

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Melofors Jinx, Bluebell Flames, Doubling Charm

      APPEARANCE

Height: (5’5”)

Weight: (135 lbs)

Physique: Scrawny with chubby cheeks

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Copper, darker than Megan’s

Skin Tone: A bit darker than Megan’s, “Italian” skin

Scarring:

Stretch marks across his back from growth spurt

Frostbite scars on legs and feet

Scar from Acromantula on left forearm and calf

Soccer ball-sized burn from dragon on right side of torso

Inventory: (what do they carry on them?) Notebook for taking notes and scribbling in; a separate notebook that he talks with Olivia in

Fashion: Doesn’t like to wear his Hufflepuff uniform pieces, wears a Ravenclaw scarf; sticks his wand in bun; wears fleece leggings under his pants because he’s always cold; long sleeves and pants even in summer; in winter he doubles up his shirts; socks pulled all the way up

      ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff (Ravenclaw)

Ilvermorny House: Horned Serpent

Affiliations/Organizations: Rakepick

Professions: Wand-maker

      HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: Exceeds Expectation

Charms: Outstanding

DADA: Outstanding

Flying: Acceptable

Herbology: Exceeds Expectation

History of Magic: Outstanding

Potions: Troll

Transfiguration: Outstanding

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectation

Divination: Acceptable

Favourite Professors: Sprout, Pince

Least Favourite Professors: Snape

      RELATIONSHIPS

Sister: Megan Sofía Parker

Mother: Alice Parker

Grandmother: Sofía Vitale

Best Friends: Duncan Ashe, Olivia Green

Enemy: Snape, Pius

Dormmates: (Who’s in your MC’s dorm with them?) Eric Munch, Aaron Alto, Michael Hughes, Kenny Griffiths

Closest Canon Friends: Duncan Ashe

      BACKGROUND/HISTORY

Pre Hogwarts: Learns quickly to take care of Parker due to other people mocking her or teasing her

1st Year: Meets Duncan when they sail across Black Lake; 6½ minute Hat Stall, devastated that he isn’t sorted into Ravenclaw; has a horrible time at Hogwarts; begins to hear whispers and have dreams, learns of the Cursed Vaults and connects the two

2nd Year: Becomes Library assistant for Madam Pince; insists that the Cursed Vaults are real and that they are talking to him and giving him dreams, classmates bully him for this; finds and tampers with Ice Vault, unleashing curse; gets stuck in cursed ice for hours and suffers severe frostbite on his legs and feet because of it; finally opens Ice Vault and shows Dumbledore, Dumbledore realizes he is a Legilimens and tells him

3rd Year: His Boggart becomes Snape, makes his home in Room 784 in an abandoned corridor; Dumbledore gives him Legilimency lessons; Boggart curse begins without him tampering with the Vault, quickly finds and opens Fear Vault; R contacts him for the first time; meets Rakepick and is enthralled to have someone who is a professional Curse Breaker believe that the Vaults speak to him, she promises to work with him; Legilimency lessons with Dumbledore end; sleepwalking curse begins late in the year

4th Year: Duncan starts to drift away from Jacob in favor of new friends and romantic interest, Jacob becomes lonely and jealous; Black Lake Incident, Olivia begins asking Jacob for help with creating spells; connects sleepwalking curse to Centaurs and meets Torvus; Celestial Ball Incident; Jacob becomes closer to Olivia while drifting away from Duncan; Aurors take him from the Three Broomsticks and he is forcibly interrogated by the Ministry of Magic; Rakepick promises to help him open Forest Vault; Duncan’s girlfriend disappears due to curse, Jacob and Duncan agree to open Vault earlier than planned and Jacob sends message to Rakepick; forced to steal jeweled arrowhead from Torvus; while waiting for Rakepick to meet them at Forest Vault to fight Acromantula, Duncan has a nervous breakdown at seeing the half-eaten remains of his girlfriend, little girl sleepwalks into Acromantula nest and to save her they have to fight the Acromantula without waiting for Rakepick to rendezvous with them, Jacob hit by pincer and receives venomous scar on forearm and calf, they force Acromantula to retreat and Jacob opens Forest Vault; receives praise from R and told to immediately work on next Vault; Boggart becomes R messengers

5th Year: Olivia doesn’t return from summer break; R impatient about finding next Vault but Jacob can’t find any leads besides his dreams of dragons and being buried alive; R gives him instructions to create super explosive Erumpant potion, which Jacob asks Duncan to do; Duncan killed in potion explosion, Jacob expelled

Post-Expulsion: R threatens his family, mainly Megan; to force Jacob to work with them an R agent named Pius abducts Megan in the dead of night but Jacob finds out immediately, runs away to work for R, makes Unbreakable Vow with Pius to protect his family; works on finding fourth Vault for months; secretly plans to guide Megan to opening Vaults; closes first three Vaults and hides artifacts in columns; attempts Portrait Vault with Rakepick and Pius, easily opens door with Legillimency, trapped in portrait

           PERSONALITY

Cannot curse. Gets flustered and stutters over his words. Avoids even saying the word “butt.”

Rather sweet and caring. A thoughtful friend who shows his appreciation with gifts.

Shows affection through physical touch. His close friends get hugs and cuddles and handholding. Expect him to use you as a pillow. (This all applies to Duncan in their early years)

Never believed in “cooties” and even if he did he wouldn’t see any problem with it.

While he was quite social in elementary school and friends with everyone, in Hogwarts he was more of a loner with only Duncan as a true friend. This was mainly because of his insistence of the Cursed Vaults being real and people thinking he was mad.

An academic prodigy. Despite coming from a largely non-magical life he learns spells with ease and spends a lot of time studying and getting ahead of his classmates. He loves learning new things, especially things that other people don’t know.

Also a voracious reader. He has a particular affinity for magical history and medieval texts. Another thing his classmates think he’s weird for.

A supportive and protective older brother. He dotes on his little sister Megan and learned from a young age that he has to protect her. In elementary school he would have to defend her from people teasing her and making fun of her crooked, discolored teeth.

           MISC

Poor boy is always cold.

His first magic is giving his father purple and green boils on his arms when he tries to kidnap infant Megan.

The biggest “Men are trash” proponent you will ever meet. The amount of men and boys who made comments about his sister and he saw cheat on their girlfriends are his evidence.

Searches for the Vaults because they whisper to him and give him dreams, and he wants to confirm that he isn’t crazy or mad.

Thought that he would have a choice in what House he would be sorted into, and he’s convinced that the Sorting Hat made a mistake in putting him in Hufflepuff instead of Ravenclaw like he wanted to be.

His affinity for studying came from having little else to do around the castle. He was frequently ahead of his class and taught himself new spells from books in the Library. Whenever professors would go over spells he already knew he would skip class.

He was a 6 1\2 minute Hat Stall. The Hat couldn't decide whether to put him in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw.

Has accidentally called McGonagall “Mom” on at least one occasion and will not admit it.

[archadianskies]

you're writing captain allen fic! can i um, request a nines/allen fic??? not sure if you're taking requests but it's a rarepair fo mine i'm desperate for more content /sweats no pressure though absolutely understand if you say no!!

→ on Ao3

While Markus and his merry band were busy demanding equal rights for the bots of America, a neat little plot was uncovered when the CEO of CyberLife was stood down. Part of their agreed terms was to halt the production of androids immediately, and release all those in storage as awakened deviants. What they didn’t count on was the discovery of confidential emails, staunchly denied by the government, placing an order of 200,000 RK900 units for the purpose of crushing the android revolution under heel and restoring the power balance back into the hands of humans. 

Never happened, of course, and the RK900 never went into production. Only one was fabricated, and was in its final stage of its testing phase when the revolution ended. It then became a reluctant olive branch offered to the DPD, a ‘sorry we tried to make killing machines behind your back but you can have this one and keep the prototype too’.

There’s no reason to double up, Fowler says, and this model has military upgrades so it will suit your unit better. That’s all the warning he gets before there’s an android standing in his office at 9:00am sharp on Monday.

“Captain Allen, I am the RK900. I have been assigned to SWAT unit 32, under your command.” He says, in a voice deeper than Connor’s and a little more polished. He seems to loom over him, filling out the space of his office like a large shadow, like a Terminator from those movies one of his mothers always liked.

“Do you have a name?”

“No, I was not assigned one.”

“You’re Connor’s little brother aren’t you?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard you were called Nines or 900 or something.”

“No.” Firm refusal. “I do not wish to be associated with a number.” A pause, a frown. “It feels demeaning.” Feels , he says, because apparently androids can do that now.  

“We’re going to have to call you something.” He cocks a brow, and the android averts his gaze, unsure. “Well. You’re the newest guy to the team so that makes you the rookie.”

“Rookie?” The android echoes curiously.

“You’re the rookie until the next recruit shows up.” He shrugs. “That’s the rule. We’ll call you rookie until either you give us a name, with which we will occasionally call you while still referring to you as rookie, or until there is another recruit; whichever comes first.”

“Understood.”

*~*

Connor’s baby brother is 6’5” and if looks could kill everyone would certainly be dead. Terminator’s got the worst case of Resting Murder Face he’s ever seen; it’s as if the psychos at CyberLife used nothing but rulers to design him, as if they took Connor’s model and took away everything that could possibly allude to friendliness. They even gave him startling grey eyes, as if the brown of Connor’s eyes was too warm to keep. What he learns quickly, though, is that even if CyberLife made him look like a cold blooded killing machine, they failed to scrub away the almost puppy-like demeanour so integral to Connor’s personality.

He walks in on his team in the training hall enthusiastically trying to beat the android at every obstacle course, using their years of teamwork to try and pool their skills in order to beat CyberLife’s latest and greatest. They fail spectacularly, to no one’s surprise, but the rookie’s grinning in that slightly lopsided goofy way Connor grins and the team muss his hair like one would pat a dog and he lights up just the same. He’s just as eager, as desperate to please, to integrate, to gain the approval of his human peers and there’s something both endearing and a little sad about it.

*~*

Everyone’s lives depend on trust and teamwork and that means figuring out where the rookie will fit in best. He runs them through endless simulations and the android bests them all; he can be placed anywhere, given any role, and adapts to each situation perfectly. It’s not enough- a simulation is hypothetical, a simulation is safe and is nothing like the chaos of a real mission with very real lives at stake.

“Will that be all for tonight, Captain?” He knocks his reading glasses up briefly to rub at his tired eyes, looking up from his reports to find the android standing dutifully at parade rest in front of his desk.

“Weapons cleaned, locked and logged?”

“Yessir.” A nod.

“You’ve been here a week now.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What do you think of Fowler’s choice, assigning you to my team?”

“I believe I am where I ought to be.” The rookie says slowly. “This is the department where my skills prove most useful. Connor is built to assist with detective work, and has the social programming to build strong social bonds. I lack such programming, and have been built with military modifications instead.”

“The team like you plenty.” He shrugs, and the android’s LED spins yellow as he looks away almost self-consciously. “I am glad.” He says quietly. “I find their company enjoyable.”

“Good. Their lives depend on how well you work with them, you understand that right?” Another nod, and he spares him one last glance before returning to his reports. “Alright. Dismissed.”

“Do you?” It’s said so quietly he almost misses it. When he looks up, he catches the briefest flicker of red before the android’s LED swirls yellow.

“Do I what?”

“Like me?” Another brief flicker of red. “You command this team, Captain Allen. You are the most integral part of it. I wish to get along with you too.”

He thinks back on the week that just passed, on the drug busts, on the anti-android protest that turned ugly, on the black market CyberLife raid. He thinks back on the stunned horror on everyone’s faces when the RK900 snapped a rifle in half, picked up a grown man and tossed him aside like a ragdoll in order to protect a fallen teammate. 

He thinks back on that afternoon when he ran a segment of the baton relay race, of both the SWAT unit and Android Crimes Division combined up against Connor and the rookie. He remembers how easily the brothers had beaten them and how his team had so melodramatically displayed their fake disappointment at losing by trying to tackle the RK900 and piling on him ineffectively. He remembers hearing him laugh and seeing him smile that slightly lopsided smile.

A killing machine with the personality of a puppy; loyal to a fault.

“We get along just fine, rookie.”

“I am glad, sir.” He says again, softer this time. “Good night.”

*~*

He turns 44 on the job, and they’re filthy from chasing perps through the slush, teeth chattering from the cold as they huddle in the van headed back to the precinct. He expects to die on the job, so a birthday holds no special weight. He bargains with himself that if he makes it to 50 then he’ll make a big deal out of it. Maybe.

He likes to think he’s still in his prime, and this job demands the best from him both physically and mentally. Careful with what he eats, diligent with his exercise and strict with his training he refuses to let himself slip up; he knows better than anyone what this job requires. Still, though, on missions like these he reluctantly admits to himself he’s not 20 and spry anymore.

The showers cloud with steam as they all scrub off and it’s heaven on his sore muscles and cold skin. Wrapping a towel around his waist he heads back to his locker to grab a fresh set of clean clothes, lost in his thoughts as he goes over the mission in his head. A success, though a messy one. Another slightly amusing, slightly horrifying moment when the rookie snapped a perp’s arm simply by squeezing a little too hard. Jesus he’s glad they’ve got him on their side.

Fingers ghost along his ribs and he instinctively grabs the hand and twists.

“Captain I-”

“What-”

“Sorry! You-” Red LED as he drops his hand, and the RK900 steps back to put distance between them. “Your scar- it’s- you have-”

He stares at him and the android fidgets under his gaze. Looking down at himself, he turns slightly and lifts his arm to touch the long jagged scar along his ribs. “Serrated hunting knife.” He taps a puckered scar below his collarbone. “Gunshot.” Another skimming his hip bone. “Gunshot.” Another on his shoulder. “Gunshot.”

The rookie steps closer hesitantly, reaching out slowly to give him every opportunity to knock his hand away. He remains still, and lets him touch a faint scar on his forehead. “And this one?”

“Courtesy of my cousin swashbuckling with sticks when I was five.” A small smile spreads on the android’s lips, and he takes the opportunity to look him over. God it isn’t fair the android literally hasn’t put in a day’s work to have a body in peak, perfect shape. He’s plated in kevlar too, and he raps his knuckles on the hard chest plate. “You’re brand spanking new, rookie. Not a scratch on you.”

“Shiny and chrome.” One of the men pipes up. “Don’t worry rookie, you’ll earn your battle scars too someday.”

“Then you’ll really be one of us.” He grins, and the android grins in return and something catches in his throat and he thinks oh no.

*~*

“Will that be all for tonight, Captain?” Every evening, the same question, the same earnest expression on his face.

“Weapons cleaned, locked and logged?”

“Yessir.” A nod. “I-” he steps forward hesitantly and thinks the better of it, stepping back. “Happy birthday, Captain Allen. Good night.”

“Thanks rookie.” He manages a tired chuckle. “See you in the morning.”

*~*

Not every mission is a success. Sometimes the intel is bad, sometimes the raid is premature, sometimes the weather fucks them up. Sometimes things just go wrong, horribly, horrifically wrong and all they can manage is damage control.

“No, not like this. Not like this rookie, not on my watch.” He skids over to his side and drops to his knees, the RK900 lying on his back with his chest blown open by an explosive. By a fucking grenade he caught to protect the team. The android is shaking uncontrollably, LED blood red and he bleeds and bleeds and bleeds. 

“I- I don’t know what to do. Rookie, I don’t-” there’s nothing to press down on, there’s no human anatomy here, he has no fucking clue. There’s just blue everywhere, and some distant part of him thinks Hank Anderson will literally kill him with his bare hands for getting one of his sons killed. And he wouldn’t blame him, he wouldn’t fight him on that either. “Not like this, c’mon rookie, please god not like this-” the call’s already been made, and a medtech van is being sent with the EMTs but he knows he won’t last that long. This is the worst part of the job and though he’d give anything not to be in this position, he wouldn’t wish this on anyone else.

The android weakly grasps his wrist, clumsily pulling his hand to touch an erratically pulsing circle just below his sternum. The blast has indented whatever it is, pushing it in a skewed angle.

“You want me to pull it out? Get it back in properly?” A weak nod, and he scrambles for his knife. “Okay, okay uh-” He wedges the tip of the knife under the edge of the glowing circle, and it takes a few tries for him to get it to catch properly, the blood making the surface so slippery the blade ends up sliding out of place. It pops up just an inch and then he has to reach in sideways through a missing chunk of plating to push it awkwardly back into an upright position, only then can he pull it out completely. It detaches with a wet click, and then he’s carefully lowering it back in until it latches into place. He’s trying not to focus too much on the fact he can see the rookie’s insides, at all the broken tubes and wires and the sparks, and the blood just pouring out.

“Stay with me rookie, what’s next? What do you need me to do?” The android pulls insistently on his hands, guiding them towards an open segment on his chest. “Here? I don’t- ugh!” he’s unable to stop the sound of disgust that leaves his mouth as the android pushes his hands inside of his chest until he touches some sort of glass component. It has thick tubes connected to it, and the blast has fractured it in several places. He shifts a little so he’s nearly straddling him in order to keep his hands securely on the biocomponent. It thrums in his hold, warm to the touch. Whatever it is, it’s stabilising him and the rookie looks less frenzied than before, taking slow, measured breaths most likely to ventilate his overheating systems.

It feels like an eternity before the medtechs arrive with their fancy equipment and then they’re very gently extracting his hands from the rookie’s chest and before swarming the android and whisking him away for surgery.

Somehow he makes it home. He’s not sure of anything, really, but somehow he’s showered and all the blue blood is gone and he’s in his favourite old hoodie from his academy days. His hands shake when he tries to pour himself a drink so he settles for a bottle of water from the fridge. When he looks at his hands they’re clean and then they’re not, they’re drenched in blue, and then they’re clean and they’re blue again and so he takes some advil and goes to bed.

*~*

He goes to Jericho in the morning, to see the rookie and he doesn’t know if he’s there to pick up a body or is there to visit as a guest. It’s the latter, thankfully.

“So he’s alright?” He asks one of the android doctors, and she nods with a smile.

“Yes, you saved his life.” She leads him down a hallway. “His heart was damaged by the explosion but you held it together and allowed it to keep pumping blood around his body.”

“I had-” he swallows thickly and thinks about the warm glass against his palm, “I held his heart in my hands?”

“And saved his life.” She gestures at a door. “He’s running a diagnostic cycle, but he’ll be ready for discharge in an hour.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you .” She laughs softly, before taking her leave.

The rookie is propped up by a couple of pillows, looking down at his chest.

“Hey.”

“Look, I have scars now.” The android says quietly, tracing a few jagged lines on the black kevlar plating around the glowing blue circle beneath his sternum.

“In my defence,” he takes a seat by the bed, “there was blood everywhere and I couldn’t wedge my knife under it in one go.”

“I like them.” He smiles tiredly, touching one of the thin jagged lines. “They remind me you saved my life, Captain.”

“I was way out of my depths there rookie, I’m glad you were awake enough to guide me.”

They sit there quietly and he listens to the machines beep and whirr and tries not to focus on how exhausted he feels, how raw and exposed he feels because of all that’s transpired.

“I have been alive for exactly one month today.” The rookie says quietly.

“This is a pretty lousy way to start off the day, sorry.”

“I’m starting it off alive, so I would consider that far from lousy, sir.”

“Oh so you’ve got no social programming, but you’ve got sass is that it?” He rolls his eyes, unable to stop the smile on his lips. The android regards him with those striking grey eyes and he knows the only cold thing about them is the colour. Reaching for his hands, just like yesterday, he guides them to rest on his chest.

“You held my heart in your hands and you saved my life.” He murmurs, LED flickering yellow and holding. “Would it be alright if I entrusted it to you for safekeeping?”

He knows what he means, he knows what he’s asking of him and it terrifies him. He knows this job is hell, he never wanted a partner to get caught up wondering, waiting for him to come home and the one inevitable time he won’t. He’s kept everyone at arm’s length, he’s given his mind, body and soul to this job in place of his heart. Maybe this way they’ll keep each other safe. Maybe this way it’s better; they both know the risks, they both know what the job demands of them.

Leaning in, he presses their lips together and gives his heart in return.  

[klawsofwakandablog]

The Politics of Wakanda, Chapter Five: Wakanda Vs. All

The Politics of Wakanda: an in-depth look at those that shaped the politics of the most technologically advanced nation in the Marvel universe.

All chapters:

Chapter one - T'Chaka

Chapter two - T'Challa

Chapter three - Killmonger

Chapter four - M’Baku

Chapter five - Shuri

===================================

King T'Challa’s reforms turned the formely hidden and isolationist nation of Wakanda into one of the most influential nations on earth. The country’s vast vibranium deposit, combined with T'Challa’s astute leadership and his connections with the superhero community, allowed Wakanda to exert its weight in international affairs.

Yet, the Wakandan people struggled to adapt to this new environment. Xenophobia, general distrust of the outside world, and a desire to retreat from the global community lingered amongst a notable segment of the Wakandan population. This negative perspective solidified when outsiders began confirming the Wakandan people’s worst fears of the outside world.

Some time after the Skrull infiltration of Earth, T'Challa nearly became a victim of Dr. Doom’s assassination attempt. Doom’s attack put Wakanda in great disarray, as T'Challa’s life hung in the balance and Wakandan had no idea if their king would survive. Fearing another attack was imminent and not knowing if T'Challa would live, the Wakandan government enacted its line of succession to find a new Black Panther.

Being that T'Challa had no heir, his then-wife, Ororo Munroe, was next in line to become a Black Panther. Ororo declined, electing to help save T'Challa’s life from apparent death. Instead, Ororo nominated Shuri–T'Chaka’s only daughter and the youngest child of the royal family–to become T'Challa’s successor.

This choice was of great significance. T'Challa has a long history of interacting with outsiders, resulting in him gaining a good amount of nuance concerning them and overall empathy for humanity at large.

Shuri, however, didn’t go through such experiences. She mostly remained in Wakanda. She was educated in her homeland. She didn’t have various excursions or adventures outside of her homeland, nor did she develop her own personal contacts or relationships with outsiders, including the superhero community.

Thus, Wakanda’s new leader was akin to a modern update of those that ruled before T'Challa. She looks down on xenophobia, but isn’t open to outsiders she doesn’t know and trust; she believes in maintaining lines of communication with the outside world, but had Wakanda less involved in international affairs. She believes that Wakanda can’t stay as it was, but will strongly defend the legitimacy of older customs.

Her biggest impact, however, was her focus on national identity. Unlike T'Chaka–who sought to change the old ways–and T'Challa–who sought to end them–Shuri emphasized being Wakandan over local and personal affiliations. In her mind, being Wakandan was what mattered and the welfare of the nation came first.

Shuri’s rhetoric was genuine, but also a political necessity. Soon after Doom’s attack on T'Challa, Wakanda was reeling from a vicious attack by Morlun, the totem eater. Not long after, Doom enacted a coup attempt using the Desturi, a hardline traditionalist faction in Wakanda, as proxies. The coup attempt resulted in the death of S'Yan, a former Black Panther and T'Chaka’s brother, and the majority of Wakanda’s vibranium deposits being inert.

These attacks, on top of causing mass panic domestically, made the Wakandan people question Shuri’s leadership and whether she was worthy of the throne. Her nationalistic rhetoric wasn’t just a public admittance of her political beliefs, but also a call for Wakandans from all walks of life to rally under her banner against the nation’s enemies. Said enemies weren’t local tribes or a charismatic individual vying for the throne, but hostiles from outside of Wakanda’s borders.

None of Shuri’s actions or rhetoric, however, could’ve prepared Wakanda from one of the biggest attacks ever on Wakandan soil. While the Avengers were in conflict with Phoenix force-influenced X-Men, Namor of Atlantis(who was influenced by the Phoenix force as well) attacked Wakanda upon learning that a mutant was held captive in Wakandan soil. Flanked by Atlantean forces, Namor launched a biblical flood, killing thousands of Wakandans and destroying a notable amount of the nation’s infrastructure.

Namor’s attack changed everything. No longer were outsiders a concern that Wakanda had to look out for. They were a problem that threatened the very existence of Wakanda itself. Nationalist sentiments in Wakanda became more widespread, both due to the severity of Namor’s attack and Shuri herself, who doubled down on her rhetoric.

The apparent progress made during T'Challa’s first reign came to a screeching halt. Wakanda began distancing itself from the international community; it began moving unilaterally once more; Wakandans became less welcoming to outsiders, leaning more and more towards their initial distrusts.

Meanwhile, Shuri had Wakanda take a more militaristic stance. She reversed T'Challa’s order of exile for the Hatute Zeraze–Wakanda’s former secret police formed by T'Chaka–and repurposed them into an elite strike forces. She built up Wakanda’s military readiness and shored up its national defense. Not long after, Wakanda and Atlantis entered a cold war phase, with Wakandan and Atlantian factions clashing in various parts of the world.

Unbeknownst to everyone in Wakanda and elsewhere, a world-ending phenomenon called incursions were discovered by T'Challa. Upon the discovery, T'Challa gathered the Illuminati (Iron Man, Doctor Strange, Black Bolt, Reed Richards, Captain America, Beast and Namor) at the Wakandan Necropolis to help him solve this incredible problem. Namor and T'Challa decided to have a truce, after both concluded that the incursions were a threat to everyone. T'Challa and the Illuminati decided to work on solving the problem in secret.

Soon after, Namor shrewdly offered a secession of hostilities between Wakanda and Atlantis in order for both he and T'Challa to focus on solving the incursion threat. Namor was well-aware that Wakandans sought war and took advantage of the incursion crisis to offer what was essentially a poison pill of a peace offer. Shuri accepting the peace offer could rip the nation apart from within.  

Namor also revealed to T'Challa that elements within Wakanda were colluding with him to topple Shuri’s rule. With this revelation and the importance of solving the incursion crisis, Namor was utterly convinced that T'Challa, a former king and a highly-influential monarch, would be able to sway Shuri to not have an open war, even without admitting to the Wakandans about the incursions.

Namor greatly misunderstood the political landscape in Wakanda. All walks of Wakandan life, from the people, to members of the government, to Shuri herself, desired retribution for Namor’s attack. Wakandans rallied behind Shuri’s banner. By the time Namor’s offer was discussed, the nation was unified for war. Barring something incredible occurring, a military response was inevitable and not even T'Challa could stop it.

The Wakandan-Atlantean war was costly, though not for the reasons one would think. From a conventional standpoint, Wakanda had the upper hand. Wakandan forces destroyed Atlantis and Atlantean forces were ultimately no match for Wakanda’s military might.

In the background, however, Thanos discovered that the infinity gems were on Earth, and knew who recently used them (T'Challa and the Illuminati). Thanos’ fiercest lieutenants–the Black Order–went in force to each Illuminati’s base of operations. Proxima Midnight found Namor in a leveled Atlantis. Desperate to save whatever was left of his nation, Namor gave Proxima his allegiance to Thanos and a lie: that an infinity gem was in Wakanda.

Namor’s lie served as his counter attack. Based on his false statement, Proxima lead the full might of Thanos’ army to Wakanda. While T'Challa and the Illuminati were secretly fighting off an incursion, Shuri and the Wakandans fought back against Proxima and Thanos’ forces, but were ultimately forced to retreat.

T'Challa and the Illuminati returned from their fight to find both their base of operations in the Necropolis and Wakanda itself were under attack. Concluding that preventing their anti-incursion bombs from being destroyed was the bigger matter, T'Challa and the Illuminati chose to head to the Necropolis.

Tensions in Wakanda were at an all-time high. Wakanda’s walls were breached. Outsiders were threatning their very existence. On top of that, their former king seemed missing in action.

It was after the battle against Thanos’ full military might that Shuri discovered that T'Challa harbored Namor in the Necropolis all this time. Despite her insistence for an explanation, T'Challa kept his oath of secrecy with the Illuminati, refusing to tell Shuri why he harbored Namor on Wakandan soil. With the support of the Hatute Zeraze and the Dora Milaje, Shuri banned T'Challa from Wakanda. The nation came above all, including family.

Some time after, Namor broke away from the Illumanati and formed the Cabal, consisting of himself, Thanos, Thanos’ Black Order, Black Swan, and Maximus the Mad. The Cabal confiscated the anti-incursion bombs and made an offer to the world: let us destroy Wakanda and we’ll fight against the incursion crisis. The world gave in to the Cabal’s blackmail.

Wakanda was destroyed and its people victims of genocide. With all options exhausted, Shuri (who reconciled with T'Challa) decided to stay back and ensure that T'Challa could escape. Knowing that it meant certain death, she transferred the rulership back to T'Challa while giving him her final order as queen: kill Namor.

T'Challa managed to recreated the planet (including Wakanda) using the Infinity Gauntlet and, as it turned out, apparent death wasn’t the end of Shuri’s journey. After being defeated by Proxima Midnight and placed in a state between life and death, her soul found itself in the Djalia, the plane of Wakandan memory. There, she learned of Wakanda’s deep past and the traditions that went on to make the Wakandan nation-state.

Upon her return to the living due to T'Challa’s efforts, she found a fractured Wakanda. Insurrectionist were attempting a hostile takeover of the throne. The Dora Milaje broke away from their king and took over the Jabari-Lands. Her return to the living–and to T'Challa’s side–made her a stabilizing element during the crisis and aided T'Challa in regaining control of the nation.

Her journey in the Djalia, it turns out, reenforced her beliefs: the Wakandan identity is invaluable; the welfare of the nation trumps all. With all that she have experienced, Shuri could rightfully say that she lived by her ideals, something few could claim.

Hope that you enjoyed “The Politics of Wakanda” series! Be sure to check out the previous chapters (links are at the start of this blog post)!

[xtruss]

The Top Reason I Hate Masks Is They Force Me To Live By Lies

Being forced to wear a mask is being forced to communicate that I support treating COVID-19 as if it should take priority over everything else in life. That's not only false, but evil.

— By Joy Pullmann | September 8, 2021 | Source: The Federalist

Throughout the last year, I’ve read a lot of masking arguments but none that broached my top objection: mask mandates force me to communicate what I believe are very dangerous lies.

Even if masks ultimately do provide some small reduction in coronavirus spread without imposing additional harms, a contentious claim, to me that is almost beside the point. The point is the security theater, which assumes that drastic government micromanagement of our lives and indefinite curtailment of our liberties are not only ever acceptable but in fact the moral thing to do.

I’m not talking about high-risk situations like nursing homes or hospitals or the homes of cancer patients, where I am willing to mask and sanitize and so forth for the chance it may indeed protect highly vulnerable people. I’m talking about in normal life, in public settings. Despite what people have been shanghaied into assuming, these are low-risk environments and should be treated as such.

Far above and beyond any health considerations, masking is a symbol. It is a talisman, a ritual, a communication of premises that I utterly reject. Being forced to wear a mask to me is the equivalent of being forced to wear a T-shirt that supports legalized abortion, which I believe is mass murder.

Wearing a mask communicates that I accept the premise that everyone should wear a mask, even if vaccinated, even if possessing natural antibodies, even if a child to whom the flu is more dangerous, even if an adult who believes living with risk is part of human life and that attempting to eliminate risk is more dangerous than accepting it. It communicates that the entire world should look like a hospital, a fearful and sad place where people are desperately sick, even if they don’t know it.

It communicates that I believe harassing the living hell out of Americans is a justified response to a disease with a 99.5 percent survival rate or better for those younger than 65. It communicates that it is reasonable to worship health as an idol, and to control citizens with fear. Well, I simply don’t believe any of that, and I’m not going to be forced to communicate that I do.

Yes, I could be wrong both about abortion, masking, and every other thing I believe. But it used to be considered an American thing for others to “defend to the death” my right to express what I believe, even by those who vehemently disagree with the content of my beliefs and speech.

Now I’m told by people who identify even as libertarians that I do not have the right to my own opinion about the post-totalitarian COVID regime, or that if I may hold my opinion privately I certainly cannot live in accord with my beliefs. Clearly, America has fundamentally changed. I oppose that fundamental transformation, too.

I’ve recently been reading and rereading communist dissident Vaclav Havel’s famous essay, “The Power of the Powerless,” in an attempt to make more sense out of how to live in our time. I find myself applying his insights to multiple current issues, including this one.

Havel famously uses the example of a greengrocer putting the Marxist slogan “Workers of the world unite!” in his shop window to analyze the power dynamics in what he calls a “post-totalitarian” society. It was a little startling to me how closely his observations of living in a Communist Bloc country paralleled my daily experiences under the COVID regime.

Havel makes it clear that whether the grocer believes the slogan is immaterial. Probably, he says, the man does not. But he conforms to the demands made of him, even when they contradict reality and good sense, because if he doesn’t he will be punished.

In posting signs of affirmation of their regime, “The greengrocer and the office worker have both adapted to the conditions in which they live, but in doing so, they help to create those conditions,” Havel writes. “…Quite simply, each helps the other to be obedient. Both are objects in a system of control, but at the same time they are its subjects as well. They are both victims of the system and its instruments.”

As with the masks, whether “Workers of the world unite!” is true is beside the point. The point is signaling compliance out of fear, not an honest discussion of the evidence, or persuasion, or any mechanism respecting the informed and open consent of the governed.

“The greengrocer had to put the slogan in his window, therefore, not in the hope that someone might read it or be persuaded by it, but to contribute, along with thousands of other slogans, to the panorama that everyone is very much aware of,” notes Havel. “This panorama, of course, has a subliminal meaning as well: it reminds people where they are living and what is expected of them. It tells them what everyone else is doing, and indicates to them what they must do as well, if they don’t want to be excluded, to fall into isolation, alienate themselves from society, break the rules of the game, and risk the loss of their peace and tranquility and security.”

This is what mask mandates achieve — a false signal that dissenters don’t exist, that everyone buys into the indefinite suspension of our rights “because COVID,” no matter how much it harms people, nor how weak its alleged rationales. This was confirmed for me when my governor finally let his mask mandate lapse. Suddenly, after I had been for months nearly the only person I ever saw without a mask, now almost nobody wore them.

And it wasn’t because everyone was vaccinated, as government statistics show the majority are not. So it was clear that the vast majority of my fellow citizens were obeying the mandate simply because it was a mandate, not because they fully supported it. Yet their compliance communicated the falsehood that the COVID regime had mass support. And that is exactly the point.

Citizens’ assistance to a lying and oppressive regime, Havel says, changes those who corrupt themselves in this way: “they may learn to be comfortable with their involvement, to identify with it as though it were something natural and inevitable and, ultimately, so they may — with no external urging — come to treat any non-involvement as an abnormality, as arrogance, as an attack on themselves, as a form of dropping out of society.”

In other words, falsifying reality brings about more of that falsified reality. It’s the same dynamic as gang initiations requiring initiates to commit crimes. Once people have compromised themselves, they are more likely to identify with their compromise, because it’s embarrassing to admit you were wrong. So instead, people double down. They heap onto their initial cowardice the additional cowardice of refusing to admit they could have been wrong.

This also helps account for the viciousness with which people often treat dissenters. Dissenters are living proof that everyone does not have to comply, that it is possible to live in the truth. This shames those who have chosen temporary comfort over noble sacrifice.

The greengrocer who does not display the sign, Havel says, is soundly punished by his peers precisely because “He has shown everyone that it is possible to live within the truth. Living within the lie can constitute the system only if it is universal. The principle must embrace and permeate everything. There are no terms whatsoever on which it can coexist with living within the truth, and therefore everyone who steps out of line denies it in principle and threatens it in its entirety.”

The crumbling of the Soviet Union began when people “came to realize that not standing up for the freedom of others, regardless of how remote their means of creativity or their attitude to life, meant surrendering one’s own freedom,” Havel writes. There came a point when more people realized that the price of staying silent, of accepting lies, was too much.

Do we need an Afghanistan-level catastrophe for more Americans to realize their acceptance of lockdowns, which mask-wearing signals, is just as deadly? Statists are more than happy to oblige. But the longer we take to wake up, the worse the suffering must be.

— Joy Pullmann is executive editor of The Federalist, a happy wife, and the mother of six children. Her newest ebook is a design-your-own summer camp kit, and her bestselling ebook is "Classic Books for Young Children." Sign up here to get early access to her next full-length book, "How To Control The Internet So It Doesn’t Control You." A Hillsdale College honors graduate, @JoyPullmann is also the author of "The Education Invasion: How Common Core Fights Parents for Control of American Kids," from Encounter Books.

[dahliias]

hello children it me theye. i am playing my love, my life, dahlia. you can read about my trash monster below n as always pls come plot w me ,,,,, u all know how i feel about plotting 

lmao so. this is dahlia day hayes, aka twin sister to dexter hayes, aka the sensible one

jus call her dahlia . there are nicknames her Favorite People can use (dee namely) but if ur not someone she actively likes she’ll probably pour her drink on you lmao

ok so dahlia is 22, bisexual but its like a men 5 / 95 women thing , like she can appreciate the male form but 100% if u dont eat ur girl out she will 

so dahlia grew up in new york with a really irresponsible mum and a constantly growing family; her dad abandoned her, shes got 5 younger siblings she helped raise, it was a real fun shitshow

basically her entire life up until about 16 was her family -- dexter, her siblings, her mother, she was consumed with morning routines, bedtimes, diapers, sick children, dishes, laundry -- she had almost no personality outside of “caretaker”

except .... dahlia is lowkey p freaking amazing up in her head ? she’s amazing at engineering and math. she can fix microwaves, toasters, ovens, driers, cars, blenders. if something broke in the hayes household, it’s dahlia you’d hear little voices screaming for. 

she also has a calculator up in that head of hers. she’s been doing advanced calc since 8th grade, and senior year she was bored in two different ap math classes.

when she was 16 she decided that she wanted to try to make something of herself. she thought if she could claw her way out of the poverty-stricken mess, she could eventually bring her siblings with her and they could live a good life

so she applied for hundreds, hundreds of scholarships, met with college representatives, took her s.a.ts three times to get her 2300, -- all behind her family’s -- and dexter’s -- back

mid senior year, she found out that, against all odds, she had managed a full scholarship, living costs + relocation fees included, to berkley. with this knowledge, she pushed herself, and graduated with a 4.5.

she didn’t know how to tell her family, so she waited until a family dinner a few nights after her 18th birthday that she’d be leaving them. it broke her heart, but she desperately wanted to pursue her dreams, she wanted to know more about the world, and see more things than just the view from her crowded bedroom. 

she left for berkley in august -- and it was nothing like she expected? it was horrid. overwhelming. her dorm room was too empty. she missed her family. it was like they were inside of her, ripping her to pieces trying to drag her back to them.  she loved berkley, and finally had found a place she truly felt like she could belong and flourish, but she couldn’t handle being so far away from her twin, her babies, and her mother.

during spring break, when she finally saved up through work study to return, she dropped out and stayed with her family again; she hated herself for giving up something she was so excited and passionate about, but she felt like she couldn’t justify leaving her kids just to be selfish

so she adapted. she started working, although illegally, at a little nightclub as a waitress -- it helped, some, that she looked young, because sleezy drunk men were always willing to tip a young-looking blonde a little extra. 

she did a fair bit of illegal shit too -- she stole, she cheated, she pickpocketed, she conned, -- and eventually she ended up in underground fighting

she’s good, too. at first she came home with the shit kicked out of her every night, but she learned to anticipate the throws and learned where to hit to make it hurt, and how to use her body to hurt other people. 

she only fought on the weekends, but it was enough at the time

dahlia also grew angrier. every morning when she got home from a fight at 5 am and had to slather drugstore concealer all over her face to help get the kids up for school and out the door, she hated that -- once a genius with potential -- she let herself become a criminal. 

when dexter left the family, she grew hard; it’s hard to learn that you can’t even trust your family, but she learned that. she started working double-time, with half the time to sleep, waitressing and pickpocketing, fighting in safe rings on the weekends didn’t cut it anymore, so she started to go to rings where she would be pit against grown men; it was riskier, but the pot was much larger. 

eventually, one of the various dads of her siblings came back into their lives and tried to push in as “father,” and her mother, a wreck, let him. he told dahlia he wanted her to work on moving out because she was a bad influence on his kids, and dahlia was furious -- who was this man? a stranger who had left her family in the first place?  she refused, obviously. 

as time went on, the man became more and more aggressive with her, leading to an actual physical fight. she hurt him, and he kicked her out of the house she’d been raising her siblings in basically since she was a first grader.

she had literally no one -- so she took what money she had from the last few weeks, and put it together on a debit card. her plan was stupid and half-baked, but she decided that she would track down her wayward twin and force him to return with her so that she could get back the only purpose she had anymore -- her family.

dahlia’s not a nice girl. she doesn’t pretend to be. she’ll be perfectly cordial and nice, but if you pull a tone with her she’ll go 0 to bitch in ten seconds lmao. 

she’s not afraid of very much at all, and she has literally like four switchblades on her at any given moment, even though she’s definitely dressed like some mannequin at forever 21 lmao

she always has a lighter or a box of matches on her, and when she gets restless or agitated, she starts striking the matches, shaking them out, and throwing them on the ground, or flicking her lighter open and lighting it over and over again

she’s v unimpressed w the male population. thank dexter and her dad for that lmao 99% sure her favorite water bottle dead ass says “male tears” on it

honestly dee is so ?? edgy n mean n tough ?? but she dead ass dresses like any other lil preppy thing w her shorts n skirts n her sheer ass shirt and heeled boots, she loves the hot weather in marbella so far so she’s just like yes please i love shorts and i hate jackets

she had never actually seen the ocean before bc berkley isn’t in beach county, so when she got to marbella and saw the ocean in person the first time she finally found the one thing that scares her and takes her breath away lol

so sometimes she just sits in the sand looking at it bc she hasn’t plucked up the courage to go and play in it yet shes honestly so intimidated by the ocean . she’ll never admit it bc she is the Man Of The House but still 

it took her a while to hunt down her brother, she started in france and ended up here via hitch hiking and sneaking into trains, she has no fear its insane , so she’s probs only been in town like 2 weeks. 

she’s currently staying at a lil youth hostel so she only really has a nice army backpack full of three or four mismatched outfits and a toothbrush and a phone + charger that only works w wifi. she’s stealing toiletries from tourists and makes a living pickpocketing atm 

she’s probably going 2 be too easy to convince to kick back bc she hasnt had a goddamn day off in 4 years

when shes mad move anything breakable out of the way and do not stand close to a bar because she will throw a beer bottle at your head and she will destroy everything you own

the only ppl in the world who see any gentility to her are her baby siblings and they’re not here are they ????? 

if she Adopts u she will show u how soft and sweet and lowkey maternal she can be, but otherwise nah

i genuinely am so brain dead now i cannot think of many plots but i have 3 i really want below so pls:

someone who she can stay with in the longterm -- just because she’s gonna be here for a while and there’s only so long she can pay the fees to stay at a youth hostel and live out of a bag honestly she’s gonna want to buy a bra and wash it regularly; i’d love if these two actually get along well whatever that means. like she’s not a horrible roommate bc shes spent her whole life cleaning up after other ppl but she’ll probs steal ur clothes bc shes not gonna buy her own lol

someone who can help her just fucking unwind for two seconds like girl needs to chill i swear ?? like get her drunk. get her to actually stand in the ocean. let her listen to music and eat good food. she’s never got to be a teenager, she needs that

a person who lowkey caught her with their wallet in her hand and was like dude wyd?? and instead of throwing a punch or calling The Law Enforcement Officers they actually stopped for a sec n now the two are unlikely bffs and they are her Emotional Support even tho shes mean and bitchy and likely is gonna be like “sad??? sad?????? i do not feel that emotion. nut the fuck up.  ‘sad.’ what a pussy”